Snakecharm: The True Story of Oriana Elddir
by Wuthering Heights
Summary: Oriana always knew she was different, but not by how much. She's the child of darkness and she is his daughter, but then, she is also the daughter of a woman. That means she has a choice.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 "Anything But Ordinary"

To be alone is to be different, to be different is to be alone.

**Suzanne Gordon**,

It was a hot summer's day in the heart of London one July afternoon. The majority of adults spent their time indoors, as close as physically possible to the numerous fans and air conditioners around the room. The children, however, were out in the sun, in the sprinklers, enjoying the rays and feel of cold, wet skin. That summer day, however, there was one child who was not outside. No, she, unlike all the other children in the local London orphanage, was upstairs, staring at a pencil.

She stared at it with deep concentration, dead focused on it. Her long raven hair had been tucked hurriedly behind her ears as her dark rimmed lashes focused on the item before her. The longer she stared at it, the cheerful cries of her fellow orphans deaf to her ears, the more the pencil shook and then, it shot across to the other side of the desk. She jumped back, shocked at what she'd done, her large, dark brown almost eyes widening as she took in what she'd just done, but, before she could practice more fully, a voice came from downstairs.

"Oriana!" she heard the yell of the headmistress at the orphanage, a Miss Cross who'd been there forever.

Oriana shot out of the room at lightning speed to come up to the banister, looking down upon the scene before her. There was Miss Cross, hunch backed and gray haired, a crabby old woman who didn't trust Oriana one bit. Oriana didn't like her at all, though would never admit it to her face. She wore thick glasses; her eyesight was horrible in her old age and she constantly squinted and peered at her, as though she were some sort of mystery or display at the zoo. It gave her the creeps.

Still, without a doubt, the strangest one in the room was the old man talking with her. Oriana stared at him, taking in his entire appearance. He was very tall with long, long gray hair that went past his waist and a beard to match. He wore a gray, rather dusty looking suit, as though it hadn't been worn in many years. It looked out of place on him, like he didn't wear one often.

"Ah, Oriana, come," ordered Miss Cross once she noticed the thin figure waiting at the top of the stairs.

Oriana walked slowly down the stairs into the plain foyer, slightly confused by the look the man was giving her. She couldn't understand it; bad or good? His expression was unreadable as she reached the landing. He wore half moon glasses she noticed and had warm, brown eyes. Kind eyes and yet, at the moment, there was more… curiosity in his gaze.

"Hello Ms. Elddir," he said after a pause, putting out his hand.

Oriana took it, hesitantly at first, frowning slightly at this strange, puzzling man. Miss Cross gave a nod at this and walked back into her office, shutting the door behind her.

"My name is Professor Dumbledore," he began, "And I have come here today to offer you a special place at my school."

"What?" Oriana blurted out and then bit her lip immediately afterward, as though surprised as her own rudeness, "School? You're talking about an asylum, aren't you?" she asked, angrily, backing away from him. She'd eavesdropped on a conversation between Miss Cross and the local nurse who visited the orphanage every month, "I won't do it. I won't go. She looks at me like I'm some sort of _monster…" _Oriana looked away, lost in thought, and then looked back, her dark, almost black eyes focused on his, "I haven't done anything **wrong.**" She glared at him, fierce, like a tiger in a cage.

Dumbledore stared at her, recalling a similar moment so long ago. She was the spitting image of _him_, it was almost uncanny… Still, he knew he couldn't make the same mistake twice.

"My dear…" he started kindly, "It's not a school for the insane; it's a school of magic."

He paused, letting the words sink in. She stared back at him, wide eyed, like a doe in headlights.

"M-magic?" she said, breathlessly, "Are you- is that what I can do?" she asked, eagerly, her eyes bright with excitement.

Her look was one of such simple eager innocence, so different from the mistrustful, angry look of before, that it gave Dumbledore a pang in his heart. Perhaps she did have her mother in her after all…

"Yes, magic," he said, with a nod, "The school is called Hogwarts and I am its headmaster."

"Can you show me?" she asked, eagerly.

"All in good time," he replied, smiling at the transformation in the young girl, "Now I assume you are agreeing to attend?" he asked, looking over his half moon glasses at her.

"What? Yes, of course!" she spluttered out, enthusiastically.

He smiled, "Well, then, we'll have to make a trip to Diagon Alley."

She looked at him, brow furrowed, "What's 'Diagon Alley'?"

* * *

The two entered a small pub called "The Leaky Cauldron." It was a very dingy place in Oriana's opinion but didn't say anything for fear of offending the tall stranger beside her. She felt so elated though; she just couldn't believe it. All her life she'd known that she was different, special somehow and now, finally, things were going the way they ought to.

"Professor Dumbledore!" the barman cried in delight at the sight of two, "What brings you to Diagon Alley today?" he eyed the young, dark haired girl at his side, who stared at him, unblinkingly.

"School books, wand, you know how it is, Tom," said Dumbledore with a pleasant smile, "I'm just helping out Miss Elddir here."

Tom looked a little confused at this but replied, friendly, "Stay for a drink, please."

"I'd love to, Tom, but I'm afraid Miss Elddir must be home by a certain hour," said Dumbledore, "Good day to you!"

Dumbledore put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the back.

"And good day to you, too, Professor!" Tom called out.

"Is he a wizard, too?" asked Oriana, curiously.

Dumbledore smiled, "Yes, he is. Now," he turned to a brick wall and drew out a long, silver wand from his pocket. Oriana stared at it, wide eyed, as he tapped the wall. For a second, she didn't think anything would happen, but then it came alive. The bricks pulled apart and revealed a world that Oriana could only have dreamed.

Shops of all kinds with names such as "Flourish and Blotts" and "Madame Malkin's" covered the streets, all of their windows full of magical broomsticks and other things and the people! The people were of all sizes and sorts, dressed in long, flowing robes and tall hats. She even saw a tiny little creature, the ugliest she'd ever seen, carrying stacks of paper as he huddled down the street. Dumbledore caught her staring.

"That's a goblin, Oriana," he said, "They guard the wizarding banks."

"Oh," Oriana realized something she'd completely forgotten; the issue of money, "Professor, I-I don't have any money," she said, worriedly, biting her lip.

"Hogwarts has a small fund for students in your situations. Here," he pulled out a small, velvet bag that clinked at it reached her palms, "You may have to buy a few things secondhand, but I'm sure that'll do," he said.

"So… where to first?" asked Oriana, looking around the wide street as people bustled by.

"Firstly, I think," said Dumbledore, thoughtfully, "We should go to Ollivander's."

They headed to an older shop that had nothing in its windows. In gold lettering above it spelled out 'Ollivander's' and it didn't look like anyone was in the shop. They entered, a small bell going off to announce their arrival. Oriana fidgeted a bit at Dumbledore's side, taking in their surroundings. The shop inside was dusty and completely empty except for a black desk in front of them. It was deathly quiet until an older man walked out with a dusty gray mop of hair and a distracted look on his face, which immediately disappeared as he took in the sight of Dumbledore.

"Albus! So wonderful to see you!" he said with a wide grin, moving surprisingly quick for a man of his age as he came around the desk to shake Dumbledore's hands.

Oriana watched their exchange, curiously. The old man, Ollivander, treated Dumbledore like a celebrity or some sort of idol. Dumbledore took it all in stride, smiling pleasantly and discussing the news with the small man.

"Ah, as much as I enjoy catching up on the times with you," said Dumbledore, "My main reason for coming today is none other than Miss. Oriana Elddir, here," he gestured to the small girl beside him, who looked at Ollivander with such coolness that it sent a shiver up his spine. She reminded him of a young boy of the same age, almost fifty years ago…

_It was Ollivander's second month in Diagon Alley since he'd first opened up. He'd been in training with the great Gregorovitch before and had finally completed it, returning to England to complete his lifelong dream of opening his own wand making shop. Now that it was completed, he couldn't help but feel truly satisfied with his work._

_It was a chilly day in July when he first came into Ollivander's shop. He was young, only eleven, with black hair and dark, dark eyes. He was tall for his age and incredibly pale, wearing a gray sort of outfit that looked to be a uniform of some sort. He was confident, not like the many other nervous children of his year, and strode into the shop, a cold brush of air following him within._

_"And what can I do for you?" asked a much younger Ollivander, his hair a light shade of blond but still shot all over the place._

_"I'd like a wand, if you'd please," the boy asked politely, with the air of an adult._

_"Here, let me just grab a couple."_

_Ollivander pulled out wands for the boy to try. The first five didn't work well and it took a while before they finally found the right one. Still, despite his politeness, the boy had a strange air to him. When he'd finally gotten the right wand, a strange smile came onto his face, making him seem almost unhuman. When he'd left, Ollivander couldn't help but shiver, as though he'd done something terribly wrong…_

"Ollivander," Dumbledore's calm voice pulled him out of his recollection, "If you please."

"Ah, yes, of course," Ollivander stumbled a bit to get to the back.

Oriana raised an eyebrow, watching as he pulled out the first wand. He smiled nervously as she held it in her hands, not sure what to do with it.

"Give it a wave," he said, encouragingly.

Oriana followed suit, feeling a bit silly and praying that something would happen. Just as she finished the wave, the wand seemed to catch fire at the end.

"Oh!" she dropped it in surprise and looked up at Dumbledore, who smiled. She grinned sheepishly.

"Not that one. Here, try this!" said Ollivander, handing her another wand as he picked up the one she dropped, "Holly. 11 inches. Phoenix feather in that one," he said, casually, but Dumbledore saw the curiosity in his look. Dumbledore kept his face blank, but Oriana could sense the tension in the room.

She looked down curiously at the wand before her. What was so special about it? She frowned slightly, thinking. Why were the adults so uptight about her trying out this wand? Slowly, she picked it up. The moment she touched it though, she dropped it, as though it were on fire. A jolt went through her, like a memory of the past, and she recalled a hand with long, spider like fingers holding another wand, black and long...

"I don't like this wand," she said, shaking her head, backing away from it, "I don't like it at all."

Ollivander and Dumbledore exchanged glances but said nothing.

"Well, that's alright," said Ollivander, finally, a knowing look in his eye, "Here. Try this one," he said, kindly, handing her a black wand, "Twelve inches. Elder. Contains unicorn hair and dragon heart string. That one was a little more complicated then most."

Oriana took it, slowly, still somewhat disturbed from the wand before. Yet, this one felt right… With a flourish, she waved the wand and flowers bloomed out, falling into her hands. She smiled widely.

"Here you go," she said, happily, handing the flowers to Ollivander, "For that vase behind you," she gestured.

He smiled, "Well, I'll just ring up your purchases then."

As he did so, Oriana turned to Dumbledore, "Where to next, Professor?" she asked, politely.

"Well," he said, thinking for a moment, "How would you like some ice cream?"

Oriana grinned widely.

* * *

"I like Mr. Flortescue," commented Oriana, as they exited the local ice cream shop in town.

Oriana had gotten strawberry and Dumbledore had gotten pistachio.

"Yes, he is a brilliant wizard," replied Dumbledore, pleasantly, "The amazing things he can do with frozen desserts."

They walked along Diagon Alley and Oriana couldn't fail to notice that people stared at Dumbledore as he walked past. Many waved and said hello. She assumed that Dumbledore was famous in the wizarding world; never had she seen such popularity.

"Hey," she said, stopping in front of a tall white building. It was easily the largest building there, "What's that, Professor?" she asked, curiously.

"That is Gringotts, the wizarding bank," said Dumbledore, looking over the top of his half moon glasses at the building.

"Wizards have banks?" said Oriana, in surprise. This whole new world was starting to overwhelm her. She couldn't believe that just this morning she'd been completely alone, nobody like her, but now…

"Shocking, I know," said Dumbledore, pulling Oriana out of her thoughts, "Gringotts is guarded by goblins. My first lesson to you, Oriana," Dumbledore said, turning to her, "Is to never cross a goblin. They are incredibly clever creatures and are not so fond of wizards. Nothing has ever been stolen from Gringotts."

"Oh…"

"Now, I believe it is time for you to return home," said Dumbledore. A huge look of disappointment appeared on Oriana's face, "Don't look so sad; school starts on September the first. You must be at King Cross Station and your platform is 9 ¾. Remember that, Oriana."

"Not too far away then, I guess," she said, sadly, shuffling her feet, "Is there, uh, anything else I should know?" she asked, looking up at him with wide, brown eyes.

Dumbledore had a flash of memory of a teenage girl with brown curly hair and the same wide brown eyes, smiling up into the sun, and then of the pale faced man who took it all away.

"No," he said, shaking his head, "No."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: King Cross Station

All human wisdom is summed up in two words - wait and hope.

Oriana counted down the days till September, feverishly anticipating the school year. What would it be like? Were they all really like her? Would she finally be around those who could understand? Finally, the day came. Oriana already had her meager trunk packed with the few possessions she did own plus all her books, second hand robes, and wand. Now, it was time to go.

Oriana exited her small bedroom, not looking back as she pulled the trunk down the stairs. She heard doors behind her and felt the other children's eyes on her. It was rarely that anyone left the orphanage, especially as old as she. Still, they were all glad to see her go. She'd made no friends there, but everyone was too scared to pick a fight with her. Just the way she wanted it. She smiled slightly as she walked, though it did not reach her eyes.

Old Miss Cross stood in the foyer and looked up at the raven haired girl as she descended down the staircase. She was a pretty girl there was no doubt about that, but yet, there was something off about her. Something much too familiar… Yes, she was glad she was leaving, even if only for nine months.

"Good bye, Miss Cross," said Oriana, formally as she entered the foyer.

Miss Cross nodded, "Good luck."

Oriana stared out the window as they drove, worried slightly about what would happen. She'd read all the school books already, desperate to learn about this strange new world she would soon be a part of. What she'd learned was that Hogwarts was one of the oldest wizarding schools in the world and the four founders were Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. The school had four houses and every student seemed to have particular traits that got them into each house. Gryffindors were brave; Slytherins purebloods; Ravenclaws intelligent and Hufflepuffs were just everyone else.

"I wonder what house I'll be in," she thought, biting her lip. She just prayed she didn't get put in Hufflepuff; they all sounded like flounces.

After she'd been dropped off at the station, dressed in plain, obviously well worn brown sweater and black pants with scruffs near the bottom, Oriana headed to grab a trolley. She gazed around at the people around her, wondering if perhaps they too were headed to Hogwarts.

"9 ¾," she thought, looking around, "Where are you?"

She continued to walk around the station, back and forth several times before finally panicking. Where was the platform?! There was Platform 9 and then 10, but no ¾! She decided to ask.

"Excuse me," she asked a stoutly porter, who turned to her, "I'm looking for Platform 9 ¾. Do you have any idea-"

"Platform 9 ¾?" he asked, incredulously, "There's no platform called that. Go bother someone else with your questions, little girl," he waved her off, turning away.

Oriana's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, glaring at the man. She was small, yet seemed much older than her age and was not at all amused, "Excuse me, you insolent, pathetic little porter," she hissed. He jumped as he glanced back at her. She tilted her head, gave a cold smile, and continued, "Just because your mother dropped you on the head as a small child, which is probably why you never actually went on to have a real career much less pass high school does not mean you can talk to me like an arrogant little know it all. I asked you a simple question. Where's Platform 9 ¾? If you don't know the answer, obviously you're not even qualified for this pathetic job and I should just talk to your superior."

The porter blinked at her for a few seconds, flabbergasted. Before he could reply, however, Oriana felt an arm around her shoulder.

"Now, now, scaring the Muggles again, are we?" drawled a male voice, amusement in his tone.

She looked sideways to see a boy, probably no older than herself with steel gray eyes and a head of platinum blond hair. She frowned slightly. She didn't know him, but he said 'Muggle,' a wizard term that she'd read. She decided to play along.

"Yes, well…" she shrugged.

"What's a Muggol?" asked the porter, finally getting his voice back.

The boy smiled slightly and then turned back to the porter, contempt in his eyes, "Really none of your business in the slightest," he sneered and turned, taking Oriana with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express

We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.

**Fydor Dostoevsky **

Oriana followed him until they were a safe distance from any other Muggles. Then she turned to observe him more closely. He was tall for eleven, pale, and very confident. She could see it in the way he held his head up and how easily he walked in stride, as though he were better than all this. He was also dressed very nicely, his clothes clean and new, designer probably.

"So who are you exactly?" she asked, stopping her cart.

He turned around and grinned slightly, holding out his hand. Silently, she took it, "Draco. Draco Malfoy," he said, shaking it, "And you?"

"Oriana. Oriana Elddir," she replied, "I'm guessing you know where Platform 9 ¾ is," she said, keeping the desperation out of her voice.

"Indeed I do," he said and then smirked, "I just overhead you asking the stupid Muggle and was going to jump in until you started berating him like there was no tomorrow!" he shook his head, grinning widely, "It was beautiful."

She smiled in spite of herself, "I can't stand fools."

"Midear, all Muggles are fools," he said, "The whole filthy lot of them."

Oriana was a little surprised at this, but didn't show it. Did all wizards hate Muggles?

"So where are your parents? Shouldn't they be showing you where the Platform is?" he asked, casually, his dark gray eyes bright with curiosity.

"They're dead," she said, flatly, "What about yours?"

"Oh," he was slightly surprised at this, "My parents said their goodbyes already and they told me how to get onto the platform," he said, smugly, "Here, I'll show you."

"Alright," she said, warily, not sure if she could trust this arrogant boy. Still, so far, he was her only chance. He grinned, sticking his hands in his pocket as he walked.

"So, Oriana," he said her name slowly, "That's unusual."

She frowned, "Yeah and Dracos just pop up everywhere."

He smirked and shrugged, "What can I say? I'm one of a kind."

Oriana shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. He was so cocky and she'd known him for what? 5 minutes?

"Here we are," he stopped between Platforms 9 and 10, staring at the empty space with a smile.

Oriana stared, arms crossed, unimpressed, "Are you trying to mess with me, Malfoy?" she asked, annoyed. He grinned to himself, walking over to nine "Because I am not amus- Whoa!" her eyes widened as Draco's arm went through the brick, "How did you-" she looked at him, questionably.

"Magic," he said with a grin and then walked straight through, not looking back.

Oriana gulped, staring at the wall and then all the people around her. Slowly, she pushed her trolley, expecting to hear the sounds of crashing as she collided into the wall, but instead, she found herself on a brand new platform, surrounded by crowds of kids with their families all saying goodbye. She passed by a red haired woman hugging two red haired boys, obviously twins, as tightly as she could with tears in her eyes. Oriana stiffened slightly; she'd never had anyone like that, someone who'd cared enough to actually be sad she was gone… One of the red haired boys looked over at her and smiled, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

"Mom, get off, we're not going to war," she heard him say and she smiled, walking over towards Draco.

"So, Oriana Elddir, you made it through afterall," he said, cockily, and she smiled coolly.

"Not exactly difficult is it after the way you made it sound," she said, smirking slightly.

"Mystery is good for you," he said, smiling widely. Then, he looked over her shoulder, "Ah. I need to go and talk to Blaise," Oriana had no idea who that was and didn't ask. Draco bit his lip and sighed, "Alright, I'll see you soon then, eh?"

She nodded and Draco smiled and turned to leave. She called to his turned back, "Hey, Draco!" He spun to face her, "Thanks," she said with a nod and he smirked before turning to go.

"Alright, Oriana," she said to herself, "Now time to get on the train."

* * *

Draco walked over across the platform, still smiling to himself. That girl… She was the first thing he'd noticed in the whole station. She'd been pushing her trolley, gazing around with wide brown eyes. Her raven black hair hung at her shoulders and she'd swept it aside, casually. Draco thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. He waited and saw her talk to the Muggle. When he brushed her off, her impassive face turned to one of anger and she snapped at him. Seeing her angry only made her more beautiful to him.

He came up to a tall, black boy with high cheekbones and an arrogant face. Blaise Zabini. He was alone as well, not one to be seen with his beautiful mother kissing him goodbye.

"Hey, Draco," he said, "Who was that girl you were talking to?"

"Oriana Elddir," replied Draco, hands in his pocket.

"Hm…" Zabini's eyes narrowed slightly as he followed the girl, "I haven't heard that name before. Is she pureblood?"

"Oh…" Draco hadn't really thought of that to be honest. He'd only seen the way she'd talked to that Muggle, he'd just assumed she must be. Her parents were dead though and Elddir was not a name associated with the small but elite club of purebloods in all of England. Still… she _seemed_ pureblood.

"She can't be," Zabini continued, "Look at the state of clothes," he sneered, "Old, holey. Maybe a Weasley."

Draco felt a need to defend her. He sneered, "Please, she's way too fit to be one of those blood traitors. Black hair, too."

Zabini didn't smile, "Well, I suppose we'll find out in the sorting," he remarked.

* * *

`Oriana got on the train, pulling into an empty compartment. She put up her trunk, plopped down on her seat, and waited. What should she do? She looked out the window and watched as mothers and fathers hugged their children good bye until the summer holidays. Oriana had always been curious about her parents. She'd asked Miss Cross about it dozens of times but she knew little next to nothing. All Oriana had learned was that when she was about a year old, a dark haired woman with hooded eyes had left her there. She'd told Miss Cross that both her parents were dead and then left and that was it. Oriana grew up as an orphan. She didn't know if that strange woman was her mother or had been telling the truth, but all she knew was it was what made her different from all the kids outside the window.

* * *

Fred Weasley was a funny man, the class clown. He was used to people laughing at his jokes, but not at _him._ The pretty, black haired girl from before. Okay, so maybe she wasn't laughing at him, but he saw a hint of a smile on her face as his mum hugged him and his twin, George, squeezing them like Devil's Snap.

"She must be a first year," he thought. He'd never seen her before.

As he and George boarded the train, they went to find their friend, Lee Jordan, a boy with a huge grin and a head full of dreadlocks.

"Hey, guys! Look inside this!" Lee held out a big box that had a hole on the side. A long, hairy leg was draped on the outside.

George whooped in delight, "We should show this to Ron!" he said, excitedly, "I can just see it. Right as he's being Sorted, he looks down and shrieks! The echoes will be throughout the school forever."

Fred grinned, but was still thinking about the girl before. Then he looked over and saw her sitting right there. It was just like fate. His grin grew wider and George immediately noticed. He knew his brother better than anyone.

"A first year, eh, Fred?" he nudged him, "Maybe she'll be in Gryffindor," he winked.

Fred scoffed and playfully knocked his brother into the wall. As he did this, a small girl with bushy brown hair and a boy holding a toad walked into the girl's compartment. He sighed inwardly. He'd wanted to sit there.

* * *

Oriana looked up as two others entered her compartment. One was a girl with rather large buck teeth and bushy hair. The other was a rather pathetic looking boy, holding a pet toad. Huh. Oriana was not sure if she wanted these two at all for company.

"Hi, do you mind if we sit with you?" asked the girl, "Everywhere else is full."

"Yes, sure, that's fine," Oriana replied, nicely. Better to make friends than sit alone she decided.

"I'm Hermione Granger," replied the girl, in a rather pretentious tone, holding out her hand.

"Oriana Elddir," she said back.

"I'm N-neville," stuttered the awkward looking boy, "Neville Longbottom."

Oriana raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly, turning back to Hermione, "Are you first years?" The train began to move and they started off.

"Yes. You?"

"Yep. What house do you think you'll be in?" asked Oriana.

"Hm, well…" Hermione thought about it for a moment, "I've read Hogwarts: A History four times now and I like all the houses. Well, except for Slytherin," she added, "They sound like a nasty lot."

"Hufflepuff doesn't sound so great," Oriana said, "I'd hate to be the leftovers."

"I'll probably be in Hufflepuff," said Neville, gloomily, stroking his toad.

"Well, not necessarily, Neville," said Hermione, in a rather know-it-all tone, "What houses were your parents in?"

"Gryffindor, but still…"

"Wait, so you're pureblooded?" asked Oriana, curiously. Neville nodded, blushing slightly. "What about you, Hermione?"

"No, I'm Muggleborn," she said, matter of factly, "You?"

"No clue," she responded, honestly.

Hermione frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I grew up in an orphanage," she explained, "I don't know if my parents were wizards or just Muggles, but I suppose I must be Muggleborn. They wouldn't have died otherwise."

"Oh, that's very sad," said Hermione, looking torn.

Oriana felt a spark of annoyance. She didn't like being pitied.

"It's not a big deal," she shrugged. She quickly changed the subject, "So how do you reckon they'll put us in houses?" she asked.

She and Hermione continued to chat the entire way there. Neville was mainly silent but chimed in every once in a while. Despite her rather know it all nature, Oriana actually liked Hermione. She was smart and had read as much about the wizarding world as she had. They were sort of in the same boat they'd found and now quizzed each other even as the trolley lady came by.

"Any candy, sweethearts?" she asked, kindly.

"Yes, I'll have some Chocolate Frogs, please," Hermione replied and Neville got some licorice of some kind.

"None for me, thanks," said Oriana, remembering the pathetic amount of money she'd spent on all her second hand books. She felt a surge of anger, but mostly humiliation at not even being able to buy chocolate.

Hermione noticed Oriana's rather sad look and threw a couple Chocolate Frogs on her lap, "Here. You look hungry."

Oriana smiled gratefully but before she could say thank you, Neville jumped up.

"I've lost Trevor!" he shrilled.

"What?" Oriana asked as Neville frantically tore open his trunk, flinging clothes everywhere.

"He's my toad!" Neville said, and then put a hand on his forehead, a look of worry on his face, "Gran is going to kill me!"

How a toad could get into a closed suitcase, she'd never understand, but that was Neville for you.

"Calm down," said Hermione, prim and pristine as she stood up, "Look, I'll go down one end of the train and you go up the other. Alright, Neville?" she said to the dazed and worried boy.

"Yes, yes, good thinking. Thank you, Hermione!" He was already out the door and headed out.

"You want to come?" asked Hermione at the doorway, looking over at Oriana.

"Uh…" asking around for a toad did not seem like a great reputation starter and Oriana knew it, "I'm going to change into my robes."

"Okay. See you later," Hermione kept her face blank but Oriana could tell she didn't approve of her lack of help as she headed out the door.

Oriana changed, quickly into the black robes just as the door opened. She turned, surprised that Neville and Hermione were back so quickly, to see a tall boy with a shocking head of red hair and freckles on his nose.

"Oh, sorry," he said, quickly, "I must have opened the wrong compartment."

"Alright," Oriana said, but the boy didn't move.

"You're a first year, aren't you?" he asked, grinning slightly, "Do you know yet how they sort you into houses?" he asked, slyly.

She sighed, "You can try to scare me, but I'm sure it can't be that bad," she stated, plainly.

"Maybe, maybe not," he gave a shrug, grinning cheekily, "But it _is_ ogre season."

"Who are you?" she asked, exasperated, slightly nervous. Not ogres, surely?

"Fred Weasley. You?"

"Oriana Elddir."

"What house do you reckon you'll be in?" he asked, sliding into the empty seat across from her, all thoughts about finding his friends forgotten.

Oriana noticed this, but went with it, "Well, I honestly have no idea. Any house except for Hufflepuff is fine with me."

Fred made a face, "Not Slytherin either. Horrible lot they are, hiss all the time too. Gets very annoying."

She laughed at this, but before she could reply, Hermione and Neville returned, his toad clutched firmly between his hands. They both looked surprised to see the red haired boy in the compartment with her. She introduced them and Fred stood up.

"Best get going. I have to set a spider on my brother in less than an hour," he said it casually, like no big deal, "Good luck, little first years. Best not bring that toad with you when you face the ogre," he added to Neville, as he skipped out the door.

Neville turned a sickly white, "O-ogres?" he whispered.

Hermione and Oriana both sighed in unison, "No, Neville. No ogres."

"Are you sure- Oh!" Neville glanced out the window and his mouth dropped open. The two girls looked and saw a beautiful stone castle, illuminated in the distance.

"Hogwarts," whispered Hermione, breathlessly.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Sorting Hat

Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds.

**Franklin D. Roosevelt**

A voice echoed throughout the train as the three gazed at the castle, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Still, the three barely heard it as they took in the site of the enormous castle. It was illuminated by lights with numerous towers and was surrounded by rolling, dark hills.

"Oh wow!" Neville gaped, open mouth, "It's amazing!"

Oriana stared at it, at a loss for words. Then, one came to mind. Home.

* * *

They were getting off the train just when it happened. Oriana was gazing around the dark platform, wondering what had happened to Draco, when her eyes landed on a black haired boy wearing glasses. He looked up just as she did and their eyes met. It seemed as though the air had suddenly gone still and that they were the only two people on the platform. It was not romantic; the mood felt ominous as the sky seemed to get darker. The two stared at each other and then, suddenly, they were back in the real world. She glanced around at the other students and then turned back to the boy, who was holding himself by leaning on the still train, his face contorted in pain as he clutched his forehead. Oriana stood, immune to the boy's pain, and instead heard a high pitched laugh and felt incredibly cold.

"You all right, Ory?" asked Hermione, her hand on Oriana's shoulder. She didn't notice the boy a couple metres away.

Oriana broke her gaze and turned to Hermione, "Yes, I'm fine. Let's go."

* * *

That was the first time Harry Potter's scar hurt, like it was on fire. He almost fell to the ground from the pain, but kept himself up, leaning against the side of the train.

"Harry! Harry!" Ron said, frantically, at his side, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, breathlessly, hand falling from his forehead.

"Firs' years, with me!" he heard the familiar voice of Hagrid and he and Ron headed over. As he led them over to the boats, Harry thought.

How had it happened? He wondered. He'd looked over to see a girl with straight black hair and cold, dark eyes staring at him. As soon as he met her gaze, his scar burned and he saw green light. Who was she? She was a first year, like himself, on one of the boats, and every time he glanced over at her, his scar hurt. Not as much as the first time, but still.

* * *

Oriana stayed with Hermione and Neville as they boarded the boats to Hogwarts. She noticed that Draco was glancing over at her as he went into his own boat with two large, thuggish looking boys. She turned away and said nothing.

Hogwarts was beautiful. It was more than beautiful; it was like a dream. Already she could imagine what she would learn inside its walls, how Hogwarts would be her home and life, her stepping stone. As they crossed the lake and got out of the boats, Hagrid knocked on the door three times. It opened and there stood a strict looking woman, her brown hair pulled back in a tight bun and wearing long, black robes. They followed her up the stairs into an enormous entrance hall. The orphanage could have easily fit into it, Oriana noticed, but they didn't stay long. The older woman, who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, led them into a small chamber.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began, "Before the feast, we shall have the sorting," she began to talk about the four houses, which Oriana already knew. She looked over and saw the boy with the glasses. Hermione caught her looking and whispered in her ear, "That's Harry Potter."

"Oh." So that's who he was. Oriana had read about him. He was famous in the wizarding world for his defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a one year old. Nobody had known how he'd done it, but You-Know-Who was dead and people still blessed his name.

Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Huh. Why did she already dislike him?

* * *

"Please wait quietly," said Professor McGonagall, exiting the chamber and leaving them alone.

Hermione, at Oriana's side, was reciting spells feverishly, worried for the Sorting. Oriana waited patiently, going over everything she'd read, silently. Then, several people screamed.

"What the-"

At least twenty ghosts glided through the walls into the chamber, a few in deep discussions. They were pearly white and slightly transparent, barely paying attention to the first years before one wearing a ruff and tights glanced at them.

"New students! About to be sorted, I suppose?" said one dressed like a friar.

A few people nodded mutely. Oriana looked over to her side at a beautiful, tall ghost with long, flowing hair.

"Hello," she said, smiling as she caught Oriana's glance, "I'm the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw's ghost."

Before she could reply though, a sharp voice said, "Move along now. The Sorting's about to start."

Professor McGonagall returned and organized them all in a line. The ghosts had left by then and they entered the Great Hall. More than a few mouths dropped open, taking in the huge hall. Four tables arranged in rows for the four houses and then one large table before them where the professors sat. What was most amazing though was the ceiling, which was bewitched to look like the night's sky.

Everyone was silent as McGonagall led the first year students up to a stool where a frayed, beaten up looking hat sat. Oriana wondered if they'd have to pull a rabbit or flowers out of it. What spells did she know for that?

Thankfully, though, that was not the case. The hat's brim opened, like a mouth, and began to sing,

"_Oh you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends._

_,"So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

_Th_e entire hall burst into applause and Oriana heard the red haired boy beside Harry Potter say,

"So we've just got to try on the hat? I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Oriana smiled to herself, remembering the tall, freckled boy from before. His brother, probably. She could see the resemblance. She looked around and saw him sitting at the Gryffindor table. Just as she did, he looked up at her and grinned, winking at her. She quickly looked away, her cheeks slightly pink. Draco, who was a few people away her, saw this, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Abbot, Hannah," called Professor McGonagall.

A girl with blonde pigtails tried on the hat, "HUFFLEPUFF!" it shouted and the Hufflepuff table cheered as its new member joined them.

More people went when finally, "Elddir, Oriana," was called. Oriana slowly walked up and felt the hat go over her eyes.

"Huh. Interesting, very interesting," she heard a small voice in her ear, "You're very clever, there's no doubt about that. Perhaps Ravenclaw? Hm… Bravery as well and ambition, oh the ambition," it purred in her ear, "You are most definitely your father's daughter. SLYTHERIN!" It shouted to the hall and the table at the far end burst into applause.

"Wait, who was my father?!" she asked the hat, desperately, but McGonagall pulled it off her head before it could answer.

She headed to the cheering table and put on a fake smile, but wondered what the hat meant. So her father had been a wizard? He'd gone to Hogwarts? She looked back at Dumbledore, who looked lost in thought, almost sad… When he caught her eye though, he smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

* * *

Harry Potter watched as the strange girl from before walked up to try on the Sorting Hat. Oriana Elddir. Now he had a name to a face. The Sorting took much longer with her than any of the others before the hat finally called out Slytherin. He had heard no good things about the house and somehow wasn't surprised she'd been put in it.

Next, Hermione was up. Oriana bit her lip, watching as the giant, dirty hat fell over the girl's eyes.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table cheered as a grinning Hermione went to join them. She smiled sympathetically at Oriana as she passed by, Neville went next.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Now, that surprised Oriana. Neville did not seem like brave type. In fact, she was almost certain he would be in Hufflepuff. How…odd. She hated being wrong.

Then Draco was called, the swaggering blond boy from before. He had a cool smirk on his face as the hat covered his eyes. It had barely touched his head when it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

The smirk was still on his face as he sauntered over to sit beside Oriana.

"I knew you'd be in Slytherin," he whispered in her ear, smugness in his tone.

She felt a spark of annoyance at his assumption but decided to not reply as Potter was called. The entire hall was still, all eyes completely focused on one of the most famous boys in the wizarding world. The hat took much longer with him than most and Draco muttered under his breath, "Oh special, famous Potter. Hat can't even decide where to put his _greatness_. Bet he's just soaking up this attention."

Oriana glanced back at Draco, one eyebrow raised, "What'd Potter do to you?" she asked, questionably.

Draco scoffed, "He's chosen the blood traitor Weasleys as friends. He's a fool."

She turned back and blinked, biting her lip in thought. Fred had said his name was Weasley and well, she wouldn't admit it, but she did like him. He was funny, a bit of a goof, but funny. Still, if the other Slytherins didn't approve...

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Oriana was pulled back to the present as McGonagall took the Sorting Hat off Potter's head. The entire Gryffindor was in uproar, cheering and jumping up and down. The Slytherins around her sneered and Draco noticed her confusion.

"Slytherins hate Gryffindors," he explained, quickly.

Finally, the Sorting ended as Zabini was called and put in Slytherin. He sat across from Draco and Oriana, his dark eyes glancing between the two, smirking secretly at Draco when she wasn't looking. On the train, they'd made a bet about which house the pretty girl would be put in and it seemed Draco had gotten his wish as he smirked back at Zabini.

Only purebloods were in Slytherin.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Classes

The good or ill of a man lies within his own will.

**Epictetus  
**

Oriana woke up with a start to find herself surrounded by dark green curtains. She breathed heavily for a moment, wondering why she wasn't in her own room when she remembered; she was at Hogwarts.

She breathed a sigh of relief. So it wasn't a dream. She opened up the curtains to find herself in a large room with three other beds with the other first year girls, none of whom were awake. Millicent Bullstrode was snoring loudly; Pansy Parkinson was a huddled mass underneath her sheets and the other girl, Daphne Greengrass, was wearing ear plugs, her blond hair pulled up in a messy bun. Oriana quietly slid out of bed, pulling out her black robes. The floor was stone and chilly; she slid on her shoes quickly and headed out. She climbed up the spiraling stairs to the main common room, a gray room with a large, black fireplace and green drapes all around. It was located in the dungeons, farther away from the Great Hall than any of the other common rooms. Apparently,that was how Salazar Slytherin had wanted it.

"You're up early," she heard a voice behind her and turned to see Draco from before, a smirk on his face. His hair was not slicked back like it usually was, probably because he'd just gotten up. He had quickly pulled on robes to head for breakfast to find Oriana staring thoughtfully around the common room.

"And you have bed head," she stated, grinning in spite of herself.

He ran a hand through it, looking slightly concerned before resorting back to his look of arrogance. Oriana smirked to herself; looks were obviously important to him. She had a weakness. Still, she wondered why he worried as he leaned casually on the wall, arms crossed and a cocky grin on his face.

"So you going down to breakfast?" he asked, casually.

"Come on, Malfoy," she said, impatiently, with a wave of her hand, heading out the door.

He quickly jogged beside her, grinning at the invitation. They passed through the Slytherin entry way, which was a large, stone serpent with green emerald eyes. They seemed to glow as its gaze followed the two down the dungeon hallway.

* * *

Classes had begun and already Oriana loved it. She absorbed the spells and magic, pouring over her studies with fervor and the teachers adored her. Professor Flitwick was "charmed" by her, as he put, and had said she had one of the best Summoning charms that he'd seen in a long time. She'd smiled modestly and replied that it was because she had a good teacher. Quirrell also marveled in class over her body-binding curse though he did like Hermione's as well. Oriana had been right about her. She and Hermione were on the same level and competed vigorously. Both were smart and motivated and Oriana knew she'd found her match. The friendship they'd formed on the train was actually still there, despite the fierce competition though they kept it hidden from their houses. They even studied in the library together at times, when neither Gryffindors nor Slytherins were around. Overall, Hogwarts was great.

The only problem really was with Professor McGonagall. She was the only teacher who didn't seem to like her, despite her best efforts. The look she gave Oriana when she thought she wasn't looking... She reminded Oriana of Miss Cross back at the orphanage.

After Defense Against the Dark Arts, they'd be having Potions for the first time with Professor Snape, the head of the Slytherin House. Oriana had met up with Millicent, Pansy and Daphne at lunch and headed to class.

"Can you believe that stuttering dolt that we have for Defense Against the Dark Arts?" mocked Pansy, her face wrinkled in disgust.

"Uh, P-p-professor Q-q-uirrel?" stuttered Daphne, in a perfect imitation of the teacher.

As they walked, Oriana observed her classmates. She was learning more and more about them every day. Millicent was quiet and brooding with black hair and a square jaw. She wasn't particularly bright, but she had brawn, something Oriana might need. She was not a pretty girl that was for sure, with a large, rather square build. Still, she was a Slytherin, automatically in the club.

Now, Daphne was different. Personality wise, she was about as bright as a post, but she was bubbly though with all the right pureblood attitudes and Muggleborn disdain. Look wise, she was small, pixyish, with blonde, curly hair and grayish blue eyes. She was pretty, Oriana knew that, and despite her obvious idiocy and lying tendencies, she had good acting ability, which might come in handy.

Pansy was a much more difficult than Millicent or Daphne. Millicent was no leader and Daphne was too much of an idiot to really make decisions, but Pansy was clever. Manipulating and mocking, Pansy was a "mean girl" and a bully.

"Good," thought Oriana to herself. Bullies were fine as long as they were controlled. "She just needed to know who the master is," Oriana thought, with a coy smile.

Still, Pansy was used to being the group leader, Oriana could already tell. Bossy and rather pug faced, she did not make friends easily. Already, she'd made Daphne cry after making fun of her necklace. When Oriana had followed her and lent a reassuring shoulder, she'd learned it was a family heirloom. With that one simple act, Oriana had the loyalty of Daphne, who now followed her around; bright eyed as a Labrador, ready to do whatever she'd say.

They entered the dungeons where Potions was held and unfortunately, they had it with the Gryffindors. Draco was sitting with Crabbe and Goyle, close to the back, and smirked as Oriana walked past.

"Afternoon, Elddir," he said, leaning back in his chair, arms criss crossed behind his head.

Oriana gave a coy smile over her shoulder and went to sit near the head of the class with Millicent and Daphne at her heels. Pansy, however, had stayed behind.

"How are you doing, Draco?" she asked, flirtatiously, batting her eyelids at the blond, gray eyed boy.

"Fine, Parkinson," said Draco, indifferently, turning back to Crabbe and Goyle.

Pansy's eyes narrowed at the obvious snub, but turned on her heels back to Oriana. Oriana watched all this unfold before turning to the front of the class, a small smile on her lips.

* * *

Snape entered the room. Immediately, it was silenced. Oriana watched intently, curious at this hook nosed man. He was dark eyed and cold, his black robes buttoned up to his collar. He gazed around at them, assessing them. From the corner of her eye, Oriana saw Hermione sit up straighter. Oriana smirked to herself. He favored Slytherins; everyone knew that. Sorry, Hermione.

Then, his eyes fell on her, staying just a little more than a fraction of a second than it should of. His grip on his left arm tightened as she stared coolly back. Then, it was gone and he read out names.

When Potter came up, she knew that he was in for it.

"Harry Potter," stated Snape, slowly, "Our… new… _celebrity_." He said it with disdain, hate as he questioned Harry relentlessly.

The poor boy didn't know the answers. Oriana said them in her head as he asked them, "Draught of the Living Death. A bezoar. From a goat. Cures most poisons. Monkshood and wolfbane. Same plant."

Hermione was practically standing in her chair, so eager was she to answer. Oriana shook her head, biting her lip and cursing her idiocy. Couldn't she tell that Snape was not the type of teacher that liked show offs?

"It's about time Potter gets knocked off his pedestal," she heard Draco mutter behind her and she felt a flash of annoyance.

It wasn't Potter's fault that Snape had picked on him. Granted, he hadn't read his textbook beforehand, but Oriana knew there was no way Draco would have been able to answer all those questions. Still, she couldn't understand why she didn't like Potter as she glanced over at the black haired boy, who was concentrating hard on his potion. He didn't look at her; he hadn't since the train. He was nice enough from what she'd seen, not arrogant or haughty like Draco. Still, it was an odd feeling, like a pit in her stomach, almost like she was supposed to hate him. She shook her head and turned back to her potion, blocking the green eyed boy from view.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Flying

The desire to reach for the sky runs deep in our human psyche. 

**Cesar Pelli**

It was the beginning of October when flying lessons began and, of course, the Gryffindors and Slytherins were together.

"Great, just great," said Draco, sarcastically as he saw the notice on the board. His lips curled in disgust at just the thought.

"Well, just think," said Oriana, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced back at her, surprised. This was the first time she'd ever touched him and she seemed to have realized it also. She quickly removed her hand, "You can show off these Quidditch skills you keep bragging about," she said, quickly.

"I don't brag!" he said, crossing his arms, "Everything I say is true," he looked at her as though he dared her to disagree.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, also crossing her arms, "Yes, I completely believe that you've just narrowly escaped about seven Muggle helicopters. Really."

He gave her a glare, eyes narrowed as he turned away, his cheeks slightly pink. Oriana just smiled at the victory.

* * *

Flying was with Madam Hooch, a cat like woman with yellow eyes and short, spiky gray hair. She was strict nor did she seem too fond of the deep gap between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Each group stood on one side with their own brooms, talking with one another but not with the group across. Oriana was lined up beside Daphne and Millicent. Both looked rather green at the thought of flying and she could tell Millicent was worried the broom wouldn't carry her as she eyed it, nervously.

"Right, class," Madam Hooch, started, sharply, her yellow eyes flashing, "Step up to your brooms, stick out your right hand and say 'up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Oriana's shot into her hand immediately and she grinned widely at this. Looking up, she saw that Millicent's hadn't even moved and Daphne's was simply rolling on the ground.

"Stupid school brooms!" she cursed, "Arg! Of course mum and dad didn't think it was safe for me to fly and now I'm going to embarrass myself completely!" Daphne was already getting upset, tears brimming in her eyes. She seemed to do so very easily.

"You'll do fine, Daph," reassured Oriana with a smile before turning to Draco down the other line.

His broom had jumped into his hand as well and he looked pretty smug about it. Oriana turned back with an eyeroll as Madam Hooch continued.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," she said, "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight down by leaning forward slightly."

"Watch Longbottom fall on his flat arse face," whispered Pansy to Oriana, a cruel smile on her arrogant face.

Oriana smirked, though she did not find it funny, as she watched Pansy's prediction come true right before her eyes. Bumbling Neville rose above the ground, completely out of control of his broom, before looking down. She could see his pale face from below as he looked over his side, gasped, and fell through the air before landing in a heap on the ground. Hooch rushed over to the moaning boy.

"Broken wrist," she said, all business, "Come on, boy, hospital wing," she managed to get him up and then turned to the rest of her class, her eyes flashing, "You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you have time to say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

She took Neville and left. As soon as they were out of ear shot, Malfoy burst into laughter, the rest of the Slytherins joining in with him. Oriana grinned, letting out a small chuckle. It was fine. Neville hadn't died and if you thought about it, it was actually quite comical.

Harry did not find it amusing. None of the Gryffindors did as they watched, Malfoy, still laughing, pick up a small, glass ball. Neville's Remembrall.

"Look!" said Malfoy, glancing back at Oriana, a cruel grin on his face, "It's that stupid thing that Longbottom's gran sent him," It glimmered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry, quietly, but cold anger in his voice. Oriana glanced over at the black haired boy in surprise, arms folded. He was brave, of course, but really, why pick someone else's fight? She blinked, curious, and Draco caught her staring. His expression was unreadable as he turned and smiled nastily at Potter.

"No, I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect- how about up in a tree?"

"Malfoy," said Oriana, wearily, "Do you really think that's necessary?" She yawned, pretending to be bored, "Merlin, what is it with boys and their toys?" the other Slytherin girls around her giggled as well as a couple of Gryffindors.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and she could almost read his thoughts as her dark brown eyes met his cold gray ones, "She's a traitor." He opened his mouth to reply, but then -

"I said give it here!" yelled Potter and Malfoy turned and sneered.

"Going to have to catch me, Potter!" He launched off on his broom and Oriana inwardly cursed. Idiot Potter! If he'd said nothing she could have easily talked Malfoy down and have him under control, but no, Potter had to go and prove he was a courageous Gryffindor!

They all watched from below as Malfoy and Potter flew. Malfoy hadn't been lying; he was actually a very good flier from what Oriana could tell. Potter, however, was rather unsteady. Still, he shot towards Malfoy, who only managed to zip out of the way. Potter made a sharp turn and a few began to clap. Suddenly, Malfoy lifted his arm up and threw the Remembrall as far as he could.

"Uh oh," Oriana thought as she watched Potter lean down across his broom and zoom after it.

Closer and closer he was getting to the ground with no signs of stopping.

"He's going to die!" exclaimed Hermione across from her, hand clutched over her mouth in horror.

Still, Potter reached out and grabbed it, tumbling gently to the ground.

"HARRY POTTER!" They all turned to see Professor McGonagall watching, flabbergasted, at the sight before her. Oriana glanced over to see that Malfoy had already landed and was looking pretty smug at the way things had turned out.

"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –" McGonagall went on, her glasses flashing dangerously, before grabbing Potter by the arm and leading him back to the castles.

As soon as she was gone, Goyle and Crabbe high fived the triumphant Malfoy, his pale face slightly flushed partly by his broom ride and his luck. Oriana gave a sigh and turned back. Boys were idiots.

* * *

Oriana returned to the castle with Pansy, Millicent, and Daphne, who were still laughing cruelly as they imagined Potter's fate.

"He'll be gone by tomorrow," vowed Pansy, smiling at the thought, "I guarantee it."

"Good riddins," replied Daphne, "I was so sick of Potter strutting around like he owned the place."

Oriana had never seen Potter even draw attention to himself, much less strut, but didn't comment.

"Yeah, Gryffindors," added Millicent, her voice slightly deeper than the others.

"Oh look!" Pansy said, excitedly as she noticed Draco at the end of the hallway, walking towards them, "It's the man of the hour! How do I look?" she asked them worriedly, but continued before they replied, "Oh, what am I saying? I look fine!" she turned back, a huge smile on her eager face.

Oriana hid a grin at Pansy's eagerness and Daphne caught it and grinned back. Draco, however, did not look pleased as he drew closer and closer to them.

"Elddir!" he said, as he reached them, "I'd like to talk to you," he said, rather coldly.

"Good job, Draco," Pansy said, eagerly, "Potter's out of the school for sure."

Draco turned to her and glowered, clear anger written across his face, "No, they're putting scarhead on the Quidditch team! Ugh! Dumbledore's doing, of course," he said, bitterly, "Couldn't spare to lose the precious boy who lived."

"I'll see you all later," said Oriana, a clear dismissal.

Millicent and Daphne instantly obeyed but Pansy stayed after, "But-" she looked hopefully at Draco, as though he'd ask her to say. He was only glowering at Oriana, who shot Pansy a cold look that even gave Malfoy the shivers. Pansy scampered, her tail between her legs.

"So, what's the problem?" she asked, turning back to him, arms crossed, a slight smile on her lips.

"Would never have taken you to be so fond of Longbottom, Elddir," he sneered, referring back to her challenge of him from before.

Oriana glared. So that's what this was about? "I could care less about that fat lug," she sneered, "Don't insult me."

Draco seemed to pause for a moment, thinking, but then, a slow smile came to his face, "Well, if it's not Longbottom, then it was obviously something else."

Oriana frowned. She decided to bite. "Like what?" she asked.

He smirked, "You didn't want me kicked out," he said, slowly, "You were... _worried_ about me."

Oriana's mouth dropped open, "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy!" she said, defiantly, turning away.

"You would have missed me. I know you would," he said, a wide grin on his face.

"You're crazy, Malfoy," she said, shaking her head, "I prefer the first accusation."

"Whatever you say, Elddir," he said, gleefully, "But I _win,_" he whispered, placing two hands on her shoulders.

He only smiled wider at his victory as she stormed away.


End file.
